commedia | PC WITH HARROWHAWK

[Lava, huh?]

[Well, might as well unwind in the common room. Whenever Harrow enters, Douman is at the bar counter. There's no drink in their hand, they just seem to be perusing what's available.]

[When they hear her come in, they look over their shoulder.]

Hm. Harrow. Are you a drinker?

[This is all a lot of...something, alright. People showing up covered in gore and viscera, injured, from...god knows where. Douman approaches Harrow, eyebrows creased upwards in concern.]

...Better, now?

[Hey, look, its a clown!]

[Its a clown who, upon seeing Harrow where they are in the kitchen, instantly turn around. It just seems like they were enjoying some tea, but that reaction and the way they quickly sip at their cup makes one think they're in a hurry.]

...Apologies, apologies. I will be out of here shortly and out of your hair.

Edited 2021-02-23 02:47 (UTC)

[It's not like she's been subtle about his dislike and distrust of Douman, but she's tried to be pragmatic - this is a dangerous place, full of dangerous people, and it's a bad idea to openly make enemies with one of the people she suspects to be among the more dangerous.

It's hard to care what becomes of you when you feel the pull of despair. It's hard to think anything could touch you when you know yourself to be a genius, dangerous, a predator roaming these halls rather than prey. She's already spent the past few days so angry, trying to find an outlet for it, and now it boils over.

So when she comes upon them in the tea room, little buddy by her side carrying her sword as always, and she and they are alone, she makes a rash decision.

Not so rash that she's doing anything, yet, besides standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest.]

Hello. The new floors don't entice you?

W0 SUNDAY POST EXECUTION

W1 POST CYOA

W2 MEMSHARE

w3; monday